


Like It or Not

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Distress and Disarray [39]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rank Disparity, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: In which Hamilton is unhappy with his orders, and Angelica doesn't want to hear it.





	Like It or Not

"Wait." Hamilton stares at the P.A.D.D. in his hands, blinking in hopes the information on the screen will change. "Why am _I_ being tapped for this assignment? The diplomatic team has three dedicated translators, and _they're_ only in case some freak accident takes the universal translators in the comm badges out of commission."

He can see the logic of laying in safeguards, but why should a staff so well outfitted need him in addition to their own personnel?

Angelica shrugs, slouching more casually in her chair. They're alone in this conference room, which means the commander can set the most rigid strictures of ceremony aside.

"You're better," she says bluntly. "Guess that's the price of talent."

Hamilton chews on his lower lip, silent as he scrolls through page after page delineating the contours of a mission that has nothing to do with him. As far as he can tell, he'll have no responsibilities at all on this planet. He will be a weapon in reserve, thoroughly redundant unless something goes wrong.

"Why can't I stay on the ship until they need me?" They _won't_ need him. That's the point. There is no damn reason for him to leave the Nelson, to spend an unpleasant span of weeks surrounded by strangers, accepting hospitality he does not want.

"There are specific protocols at play." Angelica leans forward and plucks the P.A.D.D. out of his hands. She scrolls through the screen herself for a moment, skimming idly before shutting it down and setting it on the conference table with a click. "The entire diplomatic team will be on the ground for the duration, as will the Nelson's security contingent."

Hamilton perks up, sitting a little straighter. "Who's going to comprise the security contingent?" At least he won't be surrounded by _only_ strangers. There will be at least a handful of his fellow crew mates. Maybe even some of his friends. Hell, he would settle for Aaron Burr over the stodgy attachés he's met in the Nelson's corridors these last few days.

Angelica's tone is a calculated blank when she informs him, "General Washington will hand-pick the personnel he wants accompanying him to the planet."

"Oh." Hamilton tries to mask any sign of delight at this information. Washington will be there. It won't be such an unbearable exile if Washington is close at hand.

Then again, having his general near without being able to touch him is its own sort of agony. They will be no more able to conclude their unfinished conversation than they are now, and Hamilton is already losing his mind.

He wants Washington desperately—he is reasonably confident Washington won't try to deflect the understanding they have taken so long to reach—and yet they remain separated by a wall both ephemeral and inescapable.

"Report to transporter room three at oh-six-hundred," Angelica says. "If you have any questions about your duties? Take them to someone else." For all her flippant tone, Hamilton follows her true meaning. If he has questions, he should take them to one of the visiting admirals—or at least Washington who will also be beaming down to the planet. Commander Schuyler is not directly connected to the mission, which means her involvement extends to handing down orders and no further.

Fine by Hamilton. As far as he's concerned, the sooner they extract themselves from this mission the better. No one aboard the Nelson is a diplomat. Not even Washington, for all Starfleet Command's efforts to force him into that mold.

"Hamilton," Angelica says pointedly.

Hamilton straightens in his seat and snaps his eyes to her face. "Sir?" He's embarrassed she noticed his distraction. Usually he has no difficulty staying on task.

Commander Schuyler's expression is knowing and sharp, but not at all unkind, and she cocks her head toward the door. "Get the hell out of here."

"Yes, sir!" Hamilton says, and immediately rises to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Pleasant, Delineation, Price


End file.
